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NURMALORA 

By RICHARD BOLIVARRE 

A PLAY IN TWO ACTS 



NURMALORA 

By RICHARD BOLIVARRE 

A PLAY IN TWO ACTS 



PUBLISHED & PRINTED BY JOSEPH ISHILL 
BERKELEY HEIGHTS, NEW JERSEY 



Copyright, 1919, y 

By JOSEPH ISHILL ^^ (\ 

1/ 



m 13 1919 

©C1.A5,'3 658 2 

Unt 9^0(^02 7 J 



n/v^ 



To "Bertha Broad 




ACT ONE 

TINY pool at the foot of a Kill. The pool is 
surrounded by white flowers on tall stems. The 
hill is covered with flowers of varieated hues, 
mostly red. The background is a star-studded 
sky, cloudless and cold, and sets off the silhou- 
ettes of three poplars — two of the same height and one, back 
of these and in the center, taller and fuller than either. Other 
trees left and right. 




FIRST POPLAR: I do not like this night. 
SECOND POPLAR: It is as £ir as other nights. 

FIRST POPLAR: Last night the stars did not seem 
so far awaij... The air is sharp with ffagrance and 
the lilies are very pale. 
SECOND POPLAR: Yes, it is colder... 

FIRST POPLAR: Last night Nurmalora lay in my 
arms... She put her arms around mine and held them 
tightly... Grandfether!... 
SECOND POPLAR: Hush! 

FIRST POPLAR: He has been silent many days. I 
do not like his silence. 



'^URMALORA [^age sixj 



SECOND POPLAR: He is very calm. Do not dis- 
turb him. 

FIRST POPLAR: Last night Nurmalora stood up in 
my arms and looked out toward the sea... I wonder 
what grandfather is thinking. He broods so much 
now that he is getting old. 

SECOND POPLAR: He does not think of anything. 
When one is old it is time to rest. 

FIRST POPLAR: It seems to me he is always listen- 
ing to something... When the East Wind blows one 
leaf from my branches he sighs... 

SECOND POPLAR: Perhaps he is thinking of the 
time when he was young... 

FIRST POPLAR: I think he is listening to the flowers. 

SECOND POPLAR: He cannot hear so well now. 

FIRST POPLAR: He does not need to hear. (The Old 
Poplar eighs) Grandfether! What are you thinking, grand- 
:fether ? 

OLD POPLAR (Sighing) What do you say ? 

SECOND POPLAR: Are you cold, grandfather? 

OLD POPLAR: Cold?... 

FIRST POPLAR: That was an unkind wind flew 
past from the shore... (Pause) Nurmalora shuddered 
when the North Wind embraced her. Then she 
smiled... It is colder tonight than last night. 

OLD POPLAR: Can you hear what the flowers are 
saying? 

FIRST POPLAR: They are thinking of the (Ulire. 
Theij do not like the cold. 

OLD POPLAR: No, it is something else they are 
saying... 

SECOND POPLAR: Do not remind him that he is 



[^AGESEVENl '^URMALORA 



deaf... Yes, grandfather, it is something else they 
are saying. 

OLD POPLAR: Speak louder. I do not hear when 
gou whisper. Are you afraid? 

FIRST POPLAR: I think the flowers are angry with 
each other... Last night and many nights befcre, 
Nurmalora stood among them... They are unhappy. 

OLD POPLAR: Yes, unhappy... 

FIRST POPLAR: V/hen they are angry the air be- 
comes sharp with perfume, and the roses show their 
thorns. 

OLD POPLAR (Sighing): When were the lilies so pale? 
Is it the starlight?... I have never seen them so slender. 
They become haughty when they are jealous of each 
other... I think the roses are very red. 

FIRST POPLAR: They cannot hide their anger... 

SECOND POPLAR: Theij quarrel over nothing... 
They are afraid of the ffost: so they begin to find £ult 
with each other. 

OLD POPLAR (Ominously) They should not quarrel 
with each other. Their precious anger will rise to the 
clouds and be wasted... Their colors will fade... The 
jealous winds on the strand will bow them to the 
earth... They are very tender and I feel sorrij fcr them.... 

FIRST POPLAR: Grandfather, Nurmalora will come 
among them and they will be happy again... 

OLD POPLAR: Nurmalora... Nurmalora... Happy 
feet are welcome to the flowers — but the feet that have 
felt the roses' thorn drag wearily ... A heavy heart 
crushes the flowers beneath them... 

FIRST POPLAR (Anxio«slg) Grandfether ! Have you 
heard in your wisdom and silence the sigh of a heavy 
heart? — Grandfather! 



'^URMALORA i^ageeighti 



OLD POPLAR: In the years of change figures came 
tripping through the ferests. When the cold wind blew 
and the drij leaves rustled they crept away toward 
the sea. 

FIRST POPLAR: Grandfether— Have you heard in 
your wisdom and silence the vanishing fcotfall of 
Death? 

OLD POPLAR: Nurmalora was born of the dream 
and the passion of Silence. In the years of change 
she laij in my arms and looked out toward the sea. 
And the ancient trees that fell where you now stand, 
dear children, spoke of the vanishing fcotfells... She 
will come with happy feet and hear the drij leaves 

rustle... (Pause) 

FIRST POPLAR: This wind is verij sharp. All mij 
branches quiver. 

SECOND POPLAR: Someone passed by — someone 

yaSSed by! (Old Poplar laughs: it sounds like the rustling of leaves) I 

think it is a shadow... He is coming back. Speak to 

him, Grandfether! (Old Poplar laughs again.) 

FIRST POPLAR: I do not like this night... Who are 
you ? The flowers have been silenced by your foot- 
steps... He has stolen away again! 

OLD POPLAR (Sighing) The f?ost is coming, little child- 
ren, the frost is coming. 

FIRST POPLAR : Do not speak of the f?ost, grand- 
fether! It is a stray wind that has lost his way... It 
would be verjj terrible fer the frost to come... Perhaps 
he is seeking a flower to bring to the feozen North. 

SECOND POPLAR: Hush! The flowers are Speaking. 
VOICES: -Praise! 

— Praise... Praise... 

— Praise and sleep and tomorrow life again.. 
— Life again in the warm hearts of lovers... 

— Lovers, old and young... 



l'j>ACEniNEi "fipmALORA 

OLD POPLAR: They are not angry anymore. 
FIRST POPLAR: They are dreaming. 
SECOND POPLAR: They are going to sleep... 

(A rustling of leaves, and a gradual silence. A thin sparkling dust like dew 
fells &t a moment. Enter Nurmalora and a Youth.) 

NURMALORA: Once more among the old trees, 
once more happy! Now my thoughts are like little 
golden birds sitting by the window of a dark room... 
How all is changed, love !... Yesterday there was no 
sunrise and the dew did not glisten on the hillsj there 
was no sunset and the sky was colorless. No music 
in the trees, no sound of bird or bee — that was my 
heart, love. 

THE YOUTH: Yet beyond those brooding vapors 
of the earth there was a happy sun and liquid jewels 
quivered between the lips of the flowers — that was my 
heart, love! 

NURMALORA: Yesterday I dreamed of oak trees, 
uprooted by the storm, and an odor of dead wood 
pervaded the earth... But what have we in common 
with uprooted trees ? The tree that withstands the 
winter and remains fcrever green, — that is the symbol 
of our love. 

THE YOUTH: No finite thing must be the symbol 
of our love. It is like the everlasting day. 

NURMALORA: The everlasting day, beloved!... 
First evening, with a multitude of stars and changing 
shadows and many dreams — then night with its dark 
despair. 

THE YOUTH: Then the broad warm sunlight of 
your acquiescence — 

NURMALORA: Then the golden afternoon of your 
confidence and trust... And when the afternoon will 



TS^URMALORA 



['PAGE TEN] 



pass into the twilight we shall be tow little winds fly- 
ing over the fields, playing with the flowers, mingling 
with the young sap of the trees, learning the mijsteru 

of the earth. (They seat themselves by the pool.) 

THE YOUTH: What do the poplars say to you to- 
night, love ? 

NURMALORA: They are silent... 

THE YOUTH: And the roses that have talked to 
you of many things ? 

NURMALORA: They too are silent-they are hushed 
by the quiet stars, as my heart by the light of your 
eyes. 

THE YOUTH: Then let us watch the silent stars 
and too keep silent. (Pause) 

NURMALORA: Our souls are like two wild flowers: 
yours the lily, holy and sweet like a love-thought, 

(Takes his hands) and mine the passionate rose. (Pause then 

sadly) Love, if I Were as pure as you... 

THE YOUTH: (Gently) Nurmalora... 

NURMALORA: My petals have been torn by strong 
wind and wild wind, and the bees have robbed me 
ofmy virginity. 

THE YOUTH: Nurmalora... 

NURMALORA: But you, love, your beauty is fcr 
me alone! 

(The lovers embrace. There is a low murmur. The branches 
of the trees sway and seem to shake off the dew. The water 
of the pool is ruffled, and the flowers nod gently. A figure ap. 
pears in the background and throws his shadow over the 
Lovers. Theg are startled, but remain in each other's arms 
and listen.) 

NURMALORA (in a whisper) See, love... 



[^AGE ELEVEN] "NjJRMALORA 



THE YOUTH: Hush. 

NURMALORA: Who has cast this shadow over us? 
I dare not look behind! 

THE YOUTH: The trees are muttering and the flow- 
ers around us are weeping. (The figure moves away) 



NURMALORA (After a pause) It is nothing, nothing. 
Do not tremble, love. 

THE YOUTH: A leaf has Men on my hand; it is 
yellow and old. 

NURMALORA (After a pause) Come away, come away, 
love. Autumn will overtake us. Now all is sad and 
still. Come away from the stillness and change. The 
waters of the lake are changeless. Come away! We 

will sit there and watch our love. (They go out. The heavens 
become clouded, Ihe Poplars sway gently and fheir leaves fill.) 

OLD POPLAR: AH is for a season... All is fcr a 
season... for a season... 

SECOND POPLAR: Speak no more sorrowful words, 
grand&ther. It is time to rest. 

OLD POPLAR: Dreams vanish, and the children of 
dreams go by... toward the setting sun and the sandy 
wastes by the sea... toward the sun that is set... that 

is set... (Pause) 

SECOND POPLAR: My sap is moving slowly yet I 
feel no pain. 

OLD POPLAR: Each year I watched them passing, 
and I covered their tracks with my leaves... Children, 
children, you will wake when you have slept; this 
sleep shall be my last. Strong winds will blow thru 
the fcrest and I will fall between you, fall between 
the children 1 have sheltered! The snow each year 
weighs down my branches and I am old and weak... 
Children, children the flowers are at your feet: shelter 
them with your heads in the heat of summer and 



"^URMALORA [^^ge twelve] 



give them the dew to drink Cover them with your 
leaves in winter, so they may rest... And when the 
birds build again in your branches bid them sing 
loudly, sing loudly, so the children of dreams will 
hear... Now let there be silence among us. 

SECOND POPLAR: Let there be silence. 

FIRST POPLAR (Pamfolly) Nurmalora... Nurmalora... 
Let there be silence. 
(Nurmalora and the Youth return). 

NURMALORA: Wherever we go the lovers are fell- 
ing, and they are ijellow and old. 

THE YOUTH: Too long we loitered in dreams; we 
forget to think of the seasons. 

NURMALORA: My wreath, my beautiful wreath is 
feded, and the scent of the flowers is gone. 

THE YOUTH. Your fingers tremble, love... they 
are cold. 

NURMALORA: Do not despair, love... 

THE YOUTH: The winds breathe deeply the breaths 
of the dying flowers. 

NURMALORA: Do not despair... 

THE YOUTH: Autumn is over us... autumn is over 
us... The nights will be sad and long. 

NURMALORA: Do not despair, beloved. There will 
be golden days in autumn and clear, calm nights — 

THE YOUTH: Then winter and cold and terror. 

NURMALORA: In the path of winter, spring, merry 
with golden laughter. We will hear her voice and oee 
her form, and we will smile... Give me your hands to 
warm and let us seek the quiet. Together we will sit 
and wait for spring. 

THE YOUTH: Ah... Then it will be another time. 



[^AGE THIRTEEN] "^URMALORA 



NURMALORA: The stars will not be strangers... They 
will smile their knowing smile, smile and understand, 
and together we will think of the changeless waters 
and willows by the lake. Come away, love. (The Youth 

hesitates) Come! 

THE YOUTH (with bowed head) Too long we loitered in 
hope, we forget to think of the hours... Change and 
silence stare at us through the veil of years... Is this 
a thing we are dreaming or has autuinn entered our 
hearths? 

NURMALORA: Change and silence may stare at us 
through the veil of years... but the eyes that have 
seen the morning will give back glance for glance 
when the quiet days set in. 

1 ric, I OU 1 H (moving away ffom her outslreched arms) RoSCS 

and lilies and thorns are my dream, and autumn will 

steal its beauty. 

NURMALORA (Gently chiding) Autumn is in your heart, 

beloved, but not in mine. (Pause) 

THE YOUTH: We must part- 

NURMALORA: We must pare? 

THE YOUTH: Like the wind f?om the flowers — 

each go our separate way. 

NURMALORA: Shall it bs thus, beloved, when 

hopes have spent their fury... Is this a thing we are 

dreaming... Beloved, it cannot be. 

THE YOUTH: Let us part in silence — each go our 

separate way... Here will we raise no shrine and light 

no fire... fcr my dream was an infinite thing, and has 

passed away forever. (He goes out slowly. Nurmalora watches 
him, sadly.) 

NURMALORA (Slowly, to hersein I will build a shrine 
by the open sea, for the Winds and the Sea and the 
Stars to worship, a tower on the endless white sands, 
to hold my unuttered prayers. (Painfully, passionately) Love, 
are you no longer here?... 




SECOND ACT 

IGHT. An endless stretch of white sand. The 
outlines of a ruined tower with the horn of a 
crescent moon barely visible above it. The sea 
gleams faintly in the background. Shadowy fig- 
ures are grouped about the tower; in their midst 
^ure luminous as with phosphorescence. 

THE SOUTH WIND: Her temple of worship is fel- 
ling. It is sinking into the sand. The white sand will 
bury it and the sea-weed will mark its grave. 

THE STAR: Where will she pray, our Beloved? 

THE EAST WIND: Here by the open sea. 

THE SOUTH WIND: On the sand by the open 
sea where the skies will hear her and answer. 

THE SEA: Alas for the spirits that haunt this temple 
of ancient worship! 

THE EAST WIND: I have heard her pray in vain 
to the spirits of old. 

THE SOUTH WIND: The olden spirits are dead... 

THE EAST WIND: She prays &r beautifel things 
and the spirits are silent. She stands here and prays 
in her heart and the spirits are silent ! 

THE SOUTH WIND: We are the spirits who live... 
we will answer her silent prayer. 

THE SEA: That which is ours we'll give her. 



f^URMALORA [^age sixteen] 

THE STAR: Ah, more than our only love! 
THE SOUTH WIND: And Death will f?own and 
leave her... leave her to us forever. 
THE STAR: There will be no cold and no dark- 
ness... Nurmalora will smile and be glad. 
THE SOUTH WIND: Each night the trees will sleep 
and morning will wake them again. Morning will 
bring them new fragrance and twilight new balm. 
THE EAST WIND: Nurmalora will smile and be 
glad. 

(A figure enters hastily and approaches the group by the tower. 
It is the West Wind.) 

THE WEST WIND: Has she come? 

THE SOUTH WIND: It is not her time. 

THE WEST WIND: Are we all here ? 

THE SOUTH WIND: All but our ancient brother. 

THE WEST WIND: I saw him among the flowers. 

THE SOUTH WIND: Among the flowers! 

THE WEST WIND: He was scenting his beard 

with perfume. 

THE SOUTH WIND: The roses will die. Theg 

will die when he breathes upon them with his icij 

breath. 

THE STAR: They are tender as the bodies of little 

children. 

THE EAST WIND: They are dear to Nurmalora! 

THE SOUTH WIND: (in despair) Theij are the souls 

of little children waiting to be born... Nurmalora has 

nursed them with her tears. 

THE WEST WIND: They will not die. They will 

sleep, and tomorow her breath will wake them. 



['PACE SEVENTEEN] 



'^URMALORA 



THE SEA: Our ancient brother is approaching. I can 
hear his familiar wings, 

THE WEST WIND: He whom her love will chose 
will help her wake the flowers. 

THE STAR: I see his brow — it glistens like marble 
at midnight. 

THE EAST WIND: I can fiel the white breath of 
his mouth. 

THE WEST WIND: He looks like a winged pine 
tree walking an endless plain. (The shadowy figure of the North 

Wind appears). 

THE SEA: (murmuring) Wclcome, ancient brother, weh 
come. 

THE WINDS: Welcome... welcome... 

THE NORTH WIND: I am late?... I have journed 
fer... 

THE SOUTH WIND: Where is the perfe^me of 
roses?.. Are they dead, my beautiful flowers? 

THE SEA (murmuring) Nurmalora will not be glad. 

THE NORTH WIND: They would not play in my 
beard so I gave them back to the flowers. But I've 
twined my hair with mosses fresh ^om the boreal 
pole. 

THE SOUTH WIND: To-morrow I'll borrow the 
breaths of the roses and breath them on Nurmalora... 

THE NORTH WIND: Have you invited Death— 

ALL: Death!... 

THE NORTH WIND: --to match his love with 



ours 



THE SEA: (murmuring) They havc not invited Death; 
he will be angry surely. 



Y\URMALORA [cp^^E eighteen] 



THE SOUTH WIND: Death has no place in our 
midst — he is a jealous god. 

THE WEST WIND: He is a kinglij god, he will 
not be angry. 

THE NORTH WIND: But he would have his share 
of the love of Nurmalora. 

THE SOUTH WIND: Do not speak of him. I fear 
hirA. He has no place in our midst. 

THE SEA: (mumbling) He should have been called... 

THE NORTH WIND: He should have been called. 
I know him... He is jealous of beautiful things and 
has dreamed of Nurmalora. 

THE STAR: He should have been called... (Silence) 

THE SOUTH WIND: (After a pause) You have brought 
the cold in gour wings. 

THE EAST WIND: He has chilled the air. 

THE STAR: It is dark. I am afraid of the darkness. 

THE SOUTH WIND: I am af?aid of the cold. 

THE NORTH WIND: I am afraid of nothing. I 
love the cold and the darkness. 

THE SOUTH WIND: Death and darkness are one. 

THE NORTH WIND: I love our brother Death. I 
love him for his mighty wisdom. 

THE SOUTH WIND: Come, brothers, draw closer 
together. He will borrow driftwood from the sea and 
ray from the stars. 

THE STAR: (mumbling) The driftwood is wet, the stars 
cannot light it, 

THE SOUTH WIND: I will blow the warmth upon 

it. (He bends and the Star stands over him. A violet flame springs up.) 

THE EAST WIND; She is not here yet... 



[^AGE NINETEEN] 



J^URMALORA 



THE STAR: She will come. Nurmalora will not fail 
us. 

THE EAST WIND: She has never feiled us befcre. 

THE SOUTH WIND: She will bring a new prayer 
tonight, having forgotten the old. 

1 t~ltl oJnA (mutters and mumbles). 

THE EAST WIND: I am impatient. 

THE NORTH WIND: She does not love you, 
brother. 

THE OTHERS: She does not love you... 

THE EAST WIND: Yet my heart throbs to behold 
her! 

THE SOUTH WIND: She will come to-night as of 
all nights... with a new prayer on her lips; — she will 
stand upon the shore and wave her arms. 

THE SEA (fSrvently) And I will kiss her little feet. I 
will kiss them until they pale. 

THE WEST WIND: And I will play with her hair. 
I love her hair, 

THE SOUTH WIND: I will embrace her bosom 
and peep beneath the veil. 

THE NORTH WIND: It is me she loves. Nurma- 
lora loves me! I am strong. I am passionate. I bite 
her lips and the little fingers of her hands. She does 
not love you... Last night I met her alone. She walked 
beyond the reach of your brother the sea. She held 
out her arms to me. Her lips were so red!... I kissed 
them again and again. 

THE EAST WIND: I have never kissed her. When 
I am here she covers her fece with her veil... Her lips 
must be sweet to kiss ! 

THE SOUTH WIND: She fiars your sadness, 



%URMALORA i^age twenty] 



brother. Your brow is worn with pushing the swollen 
clouds... But she loves me better than all. To me 
alone has she given herself at night — 

THE SEA: But I have caressed her in the daytime. 
We have laughed together in the daytime. 

THE SOUTH WIND: The warmth of my breath is 
in her veins, my life in the blood of her heart... I 
nestle softly upon her, lighter than the dream of" a 
bird. 

THE NORTH WIND: I am her God. She fiars my 
strength; she worships my passion! 

THE STAR: I have never touched her. She gazes 
on me and smiles. But I love her smile. I ask no 
more than her smile. 

THE SEA (mumbling) Death — he will be angry. (Nurma- 

lora enters slowly, with bowed head.) 

THE SOUTH WIND: She comes! She comes! 
(sudden pause) She is Wearing a somber veil!... 

ALL: She comes... she comes... 

THE SOUTH WIND: Will she dance in this sombre 
veil?... 

THE EAST V/IND: Nurmalora is sad. She has 
hidden her fece from us... 

(Nurmalora advances a few paces and stops. She turns to 
the tower and stretches out her arms, gazing intently before 
her. A pause. The elements are motionless. She turns away 
from the tower and her arms drop to her sides, as in despair. 
There is a murmur among the winds.) 

THE STAR: She is very sad to-night. 
THE WINDS: She has never forgotten to smile... 
THE SEA : Where is her song of love? 
THE STAR: Where is her new-born prayer? Nurma- 
lora... Nurmalora... Nurmalora... 



['PAGE TWENTY-ONE] '^URMALORA 



THE WEST WIND: Let us kneel down and wor- 
ship her. 

THE SOUTH WIND: Let us dance round her and 
make her smile. 

(They surround her.) 

THE WEST WIND: Unloossen the clasp of her hair... 

THE SOUTH WIND: Unloossen her veil... 

THE STAR: She smiles at me! Speak to her... She 
will smile again... 

THE NORTH WIND: We are near you, Nurmalora, 
your lovers are near you. We have come to play with 
you upon the sand. 

THE SOUTH WIND: Dance, Nurmalora — come 
and dance with us. 

THE SEA: Ah, let me kiss her little f^et! 

THE STAR: How beautife.1 she is! 

THE WEST WIND: Her skin is so white... 

THE SOUTH WIND: So round and white her 
breasts... 

THE STAR: Like living fires, her eijes... 

THE SOUTH WIND: I have kissed her breasts... 

THE WEST WIND: Her hair... her beautifiil hair... 

THE SEA: ... Her little fiet... Ah! let me kiss them 
again... 

THE NORTH WIND: She is mine... 

THE SOUTH WIND: Mine! 

THE EAST WIND: (p.ieousiy) Mine... 

THE STAR: Unveil her smile. I only ask her smile. 

THE NORTH WIND: Who will judge among us? 

THE SOUTH WIND: She is mine! 



T\URMALORA ['pace twenty-two] 

THE SEA: (murmuring) HusK... hush... 

THE STAR: Brother, what do you hear? 

THE SEA: (murmuring) There is a footstep I know... 

THE NORTH WIND: (loudly) Who will judge among 
us? 

THE SOUTH WIND: She is mine... Nurmalora is 
mine! 

A VOICE: (In the distance) To-night she is mine. 
(Sudden silence. Nurmalora sinks down upon the sand.) 

THE WINDS: (after a pause, in subdued tones) She haS fel- 

len... Nurmalora has falen... Draw her close to the 

fire... It is cold... (Silence) 

THE STAR: It is dark... where is our mother, the 
moon? 

THE SEA: Where, oh where? 

THE VOICE: (nearer) To-night Nurmalora is mine. 

THE SOUTH WIND: He has come, uncalled and 
unbidden... Draw closer about her, brothers. 

THE SEA: (murmuring) He has come. I have heard his 
coming. For many hours I listened and heard his 
coming. His fcotstep is like an echo in the heart of 
a barren goddess. 

THE NORTH WIND: As one of us— we must greet 
him. 

THE SOUTH WIND: He shall not behold Nurma- 
lora... 

THE NORTH WIND: He is one of us... He, too, 
loves her... 

DEATH : (a majestic figure enters, and the fire goes out) She WaS 

mine from the first beginning, she is mine forever. 
THE SEA: (pleading) I have played with her long, she 



['PAGE TWENTY-THREE] ^\URMALORA 



THE SOUTH WIND: I have loved her and held 
her close. 

THE WEST WIND : I have played with her hairj 
often have I hidden my face in her hair; 

(Death approaches Nurmalora. The South Wind stands in 
her way.) 

THE EAST WIND: Do not take her f?om us, brother, 
you are stronger than we. 

THE STAR: Do not roh me of her smile. 

THE WEST WIND: Do not, oh kingljj brother. 

THE SEA: (murmuring) The roscs wiU die — there'll be 
no one to wake them to-morrow. 

(Nurmalora becomes vaguely conscious of something. She 
smiles. She attempts slowly to rise.) 

THE NORTH WIND: You may gaze upon her, but 
do not touch her. 

THE SOUTH WIND: She is mine! 

THE NORTH WIND: She is mine! 

THE STAR: She is ours! 

DEATH : (Speaking to each of the elements) YoU have kissed 

her lips and played with her hair... You have danced 
with her upon the sand when the moon was high... 
You have caressed her in the light of noontime — And 
I sat bjf and watched and gazed upon her, and thru 
my fingers crept the few grey sands of her life, and 
the sea waves washed them away... But to me she 
was born. I knew her before the first beginning, be- 
fore wind and tide, oh brothers, before worlds and 
time... I have played with her soul. 

(The Tower becomes vague. It appears to be sinking into the 
sand.) 

THE WINDS: Brother! 



'^{URMALORA [cp^cE twenty-fouri 



THE STAR: O kinglg brother! 

THE SEA: O jealous gods ! 

DEATH: She IS mine! (To Nurmalora) I am your silent 
prayer, I am your song of love, I am the vanishing 
day and the hopes that have spent their fury... (He 
holds out his arms to her) There is the forest — remember? — 
(She rises to meet him, smiling) Beloved, I have Waited long... 



(THE SCENE FADES) 




5> In Preparation *? 

*^ ONB-ACT PLAYS, BY 4^ 

p,. Richard Bolivarre li 

t». Symbolic Plays ^ 

*^ NURMALORA ^ 

^ SHADOWS ^ 
THE LORELEI 

»* Satirical plays ,^ 

&♦• BY THE BEARD OF THE 42 

£> PROPHET ^ 

P> THE BLIND CANARY 4* 

^ THE HOLY GHOST ^ 

^ "THE HORSE AND THE 4S 

*^ RIDER" ^ 

1^ GOD SAVE THE KING ^ 

g^ THE RED TERROR *S 



_„ ^ 

AMONG THE STARS ^ 

4^ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

iiiiiii .:::::::^, 

016 102 420 A W\ 



